New York Write to Pitch "First Pages" - 2022
A forum for New York pitch event alums to post samples of their scenes and prose narrative for detailed critique according to Algonkian Author Connect guidelines. Emphasis on choice of set, narrative cinema, quality of dialogue, metaphor, static and dynamic imagery, interior monologue, general clarity, tone, suspense devices, and routine line editing issues as well.
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Below are elements that all would-be narrative fiction artists should consider, regardless of genre - prior to fingers touching the keyboard, and while the fingers are tapping. These elements should be used in this forum for helpful critique as well as writer editorial purposes. Keep in mind, that aside from the notes which follow, a great story premise with a strong plot and excellent characters will keep reader eyes on the page most effectively. All else is extra but necessary recipe - cliché but true. => For those about to post a sample of their prose narrative, this forum will serve you best if you post a three or four page scene taken from your opening …
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An Interview With Anje Goodwin Michael Neff, director of the New York Pitch Conference, talks to aspiring author, Anje Goodwin, about her leaps in narrative evolution and prose style after working with the NAPE Drills (pronounced "nap"). - A Sample of Anje's Latest Work Q: Angie, you are one of the AWC alums; we reconnected in January about some systemic issues found in a sample of your prose submitted to the forum. We discussed that a prose drill exercise could help with the problems you were facing; can you tell us a little about your expectations? And what difficulties you might have faced during the exercise. A: I’ll start by saying t…
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After a week of festivities, the people of Kald should have been sleeping off the twice-cooked pork, the sticky yam dumplings, and the sweet salt wines of Mawa, but instead, they were screaming—fleeing their squat white houses in the wee hours of morning as the spoken fire overtook them. The fire danced across the wide streets and the sweltering heat caused the white paint on the houses to bubble and blister. Sickly green flames at first but as they burned hotter green gave way to bright yellows and searing oranges. It surged, washing over the townhomes, stacked on top of each other like building blocks. When the town had first been founded almost a century ago, the…
Last reply by AD.Greenwyn, -
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My heart feels like it’s been thrown onto the ground only to be beaten and bruised. This has to be a dream. The rain batters my hair and clothes, leaving me a mess, but I don’t take notice. Falling in love had just cost me a heartbreak I had never imagined, one tangled with grief. How could I continue to live my life without him? Someone must wake me up from this nightmare. As the rain runs down my face, I close my eyes, but all that travels across the black canvas are pictures of him: snapshots of the happy times and images of times he annoyed me. I wish he was here to annoy me again. I see wasted moments of precious time over lover’s quarrels that made no sen…
Last reply by Blair Hayse, -
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I had a cool name which was why I hated to change it. Bobby Jordan. With a name like that, maybe I should have been a baseball player, but I ended up a portfolio manager at one of the big New York hedge funds. Either way, there I was on the roof of a boutique hotel in mid-town Manhattan, my ex-wife’s boyfriend pointing a gun at me demanding I hand over a My Catchy Creature – those stuffed animals from the mid-nineties that everyone went crazy over? One of those. It was Shani the Snail. The Shani the Snail My Catchy Creature was not supposed to exist. Arlo Rothstein’s stuffed animal empire - ingeniously named ARLO – repeatedly denied the existence of Shani t…
Last reply by Scott Brooks, -
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It was the perfect place to meet someone you never planned on meeting and never wanted to meet. The dispersed camping spaces just southwest of Leadville were far enough away from each other to give you the illusion of privacy, but only if the other people were pretending along with you, otherwise everything seemed too close. Out here in the pseudo-wilderness of Colorado, where the Jettas and Altimas disturbed the fantasy of seclusion, where the Bluetooth stereos pumped the music of the city into the forest, one had to have a good imagination, or else one would feel just as civilized as one did before coming out here. It was the place where cultures collided, where t…
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The Old Oak Tree Spring 1754 GLENEALY, IRELAND—The boy paid no mind to the grit and stones that cut into the soft flesh of his bare feet. He was all consumed by the rumors, if true, he was going to kill that son-of-a-bitch Emmet Rafferty. The shallow brook defined the trail. Littered with weather-smooth stones, it meandered through the thick forest like a glistening ribbon. Oisin Lambert hung to the shadows of its edge. The mud of the bank was black and soft, his bare heels sunk like spoons into pudding. Talk was his older sister, Muirne, be occupying the rake Rafferty. The boy of just twelve years pushed strands of shoulder-length blond hair behind h…
Last reply by David1755, -
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Chapter 1 Anti-Rightist Movement Five minutes, that’s all it was. Actually, it was less than that. There was no violence, no natural disaster, no screaming throngs. All that happened was some words were spoken. Words that abruptly changed the trajectory of my life and which have haunted me for the last half century. It happened one day in 1957 after a long trip father took with Russian experts. It happened in a meeting in which the leaders of Beijing Geology College asked for advice. It happened on that podium father used to give lectures that so captivated his students. It was rooted in father’s scholarly mind that was always ques…
Last reply by Yun B, -
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Opening scenes – Introduces one of the co-protagonists, world/setting, voice. Experiments with new plot elements developed during the conference. The frigid wind choked Astra. Her body burned with intense cold. Despite growing up in the Giant's Fingers, the frozen islands that stretched out like fingers from the Great Southern Glacier at the edge of the world, Astra had never been as cold as she was on the three months journey from her fishing village in Myrt to the harsh Skyrlish tunda. Luckily, she'd had Taryl to keep her warm. The chief's daughter turned to her fire haired companion, who hid behind an obelisk of smooth obsidian-colored stone. He was using th…
Last reply by Oliviarfrias, -
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CHAPTER I The tap, tap, tap, of the red Louboutin stilettos echoed like jacketed hollow point rounds being fired from a suppressed SIG Sauer P365, as she walked confidently across the polished, dove grey, Italian marble floors of her opulent office space to stare out the 25th floor window. It was a sound the man just entering the room, one that owned such a weapon, was well familiar with. The heels were an exact color match to the well fitted, powerful, yet feminine, fitted tank dress Eve wore flattering her flawless figure. Her black silken hair was swept up in a beautiful chignon held by a diamond tipped pin. The perfectly French manicured index finger of …
Last reply by Kimberly Luse, -
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THE GREATEST RACE! By Doc Spoon Speculative, Alt-Historical Fiction - 116,000 words FIRST FIVE PAGES When people run out of golden ideas to chase, they chase gold.” Anonymous Chapter One – The Bilderberg Wager The billionaires were face to face, nose to nose, with flushed cheeks and clenched fists. They were about to put hands on each other. “Square has not lost a race in seven years!” Fixon and the cognac shouted. Monroe Fixon was an African American pharmaceutical mogul who capitalized on the human genome work. “Neither has Quad!” screamed Bishop and the liquor. August Bishop was a British-Caucasian who made his fortune by pate…
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Opening scenes – introduces protagonist, world/setting, voice, and inciting incident. 1 - Time Will Not Tell The last thing Alila Illi desired was ending up in an asylum to rot alone with no family to save her. Stepping out of the elevator, she wished for the thousandth time that she could not feel people’s pain. It was getting harder to keep her mouth shut, swallow the hurt, and not blurt out to strangers unsolicited advice about their poor health. Especially when they didn’t even look sick. Alila stood in the lobby of her suburban apartment building and checked her watch, 8:30 a.m. Perfect. Her local coffee shop would be almost free of people. …
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The dispatch rider saluted the staff sergeant, threw the satchel over his shoulder, and bolted out of the reception to a row of BSA M20 motorcycles. He straddled the next workhorse in line, pulled his goggles down from his helmet, and gave it a sturdy jump-start. Off he sped, down a narrow road stretching north across the countryside. He knew every second mattered. The whistle blew its high-pitched farewell and the train jerked forward as it pulled away from Euston Station. Tommy’s heart rate accelerated in synchrony with the revving up of the engine. What am I in for? He pushed his spectacles further up his pointy nose, not to bring the scenery into clearer view …
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Anaïs Cigogne Giroux was born in Paris, France in 1927 and tumbled into this world haphazardly, like an airy, windborne dandelion. No one could explain such children, the lineage she inherited, or her quiet determination that secured her gifts early on, unusual abilities that she would need, even as a child. She was the daughter of Brigette Czajka and called Anastazja Czajka. Her stepfather, Boyrs Czajka loved the name Anastazja, and although he had not officially adopted Ani, she was known as Anastazja Czajka. They lived in Krakow, Poland and when she was eighteen years old, she took her final vows as a Benedictine nun, from then on known as Sister Ani. That she wa…
Last reply by Marie White Small, -
Revised Chapter One - Introduces the Sifting Ceremony and two main protagonists, Hild and Razzia. CHAPTER 1 Hild looked down the shaft of his arrow through a small gap in the foliage, then readjusted his hand on the grip. He felt his heart beating in his fingers as they held the nock of the arrow just behind the blue and gold fletching. He crouched, ready, waiting, and fearful, for today, the Sifting Ceremony began. Hild watched in mute horror as the dark-armored guards appeared, dragging a young girl from a nearby tent. They shoved her toward the center of the large, circular courtyard and dropped her at the base of a polished stone altar shaped …
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Last reply by Luis Santiago, -
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Author: Rose Eggert Title: A Woman in the River Genre: Commercial Fiction, Women’s Fiction Comps: The Stationery Shop by Marjan Kamali meets White Teeth by Zadie Smith and The Shipping News by Annie Proulx Hook line: After the accidental drowning of her youngest child, Joline Delaney refuses to speak for years, until an old flame turned homeless vet blows a hole in the hydro dam, releasing the baby’s bones and Joline’s tongue. Pitch: 1973. ERA. Women’s March. End of War. Joline Delaney is stuck in a trailer with 4 hungry kids awaiting the return of sailor-husband, Jacky from war. When the children chase a cat onto the ice-covered river, Joline fa…
Last reply by Rose Eggert, -
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Hey all! I am so excited to meet and work with you Below is the opening to my MS, please let me know what you think and how I might make it better. Prologue What is feeding to a Goddess? A necessity, she thought, as she rinsed the gore from her thumb and ring finger. It was painful trying to satisfy herself with the scraps of power she devoured from the creatures she’d created. That, and the indecency of having to clean up after herself. But alas, her siblings were mostly alive and well for now, so she’d have to settle for tiptoeing towards transcendence. She rolled up the eyeless corpse of the Reborn in the rough faded carpet on which it lay and he…
Last reply by Dylan Nicole Hansen, -
Chapter 1 “Prasad!” “One minute, mom!” Prasad Patel flopped over on his bedroom floor with a warm grin. This golden Sunday had rolled out a trim carpet of shimmering light to deliver him to his moment in the sun. Tomorrow, he’d cross the threshold of adolescence and graduate to the big One-Oh. Double digits. Ten. Freaking. Years. Old! At long last, he’d cast off the baby bib of ‘Little Boy’ and claim his shiny, hard earned badge of ‘Preteen’. “Prasad!” “Gib be one mirrute!” Tip-toeing over the bathroom sink, he generously brushed his teeth, choosing to floss for once. The youngest in his family, albeit with the largest mouth, h…
Last reply by Aatman Pandya, -
Chapter 1 Names “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” — Kahlil Gibra Sitting in the back of my classroom, I can see over my 3rd grade classmates' heads. I sit in the back, not because I don’t want to be called on, which is true, but because I’m the tallest. I’m thankful they put me there. It’s easier to hide. Our desks are in perfect rows, like the edges of red, orange, and yellow construction paper lying on tops of green bookcases. On a back table Elmer’s glue bottles with labels facing forward stand in line resembling soldiers in uniform. Shiny scissors wait in their carr…
Last reply by Peter Kofitsas, -
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Chapter 1 Unwanted Secret People who have not been to Narnia sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same time. --C.S. Lewis Larnaca, Cyprus Eastern Mediterranean Mal Cozakos shifted nervously in his wooden chair outside a small cafe. Beneath charcoal brows, his thinly slit eyes darted between the small photograph in his left hand and the tourist entrance to the ancient church across the street. A narrow strip of shade protected him from the mid-morning heat. Crags in his olive face had evolved into a permanent squint by eight decades of Mediterranean sun. Although a common man, his full head of tousled white hair, salt and pepper mou…
Last reply by Deborah Morris, -
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Marian watched the sunset from a grassy hill outside the Steinigen fortress. Free from her father, and free from his warlocks and guards, the moment she carved out of time for herself was one of peace. She was surrounded by Harken Lilies, a rare flower whose seeds were prized elsewhere in the Kingdom of Ephorus. She whispered into the petals, a plea for rescue, and a tear rolled down her freckled cheek. Ancient texts told of pixies who could hear your cries through the delicate system the flower built beneath the earth with its roots, but no one had ever come. As the final ray of sunlight touched her, she snapped her fingers, and a bright spark arose on her fingertips, bo…
Last reply by Deborah Morris, -
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Opening Scene: Introduces protagonist, setting (flip-flops between two setting: past and present), tone and foreshadows the primary conflict. 1 Mesa, AZ (ten years ago) Corey laid lifeless. Her eyes had yet to open and she was already resentful of the day before her. Her cheek clung to her pillowcase, still damp with tears from the night before. And then, like clockwork, came the weight, rich with pain, nuzzling into its usual spot within her sternum. She opened her eyes and slowly, a blurry room began to merge into focus. Corey’s eyes fixed upon the metal object atop her nightstand. Beams of light slipping through the window promoted it wi…
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This is the beginning of the novel. it sets up the real of the Fates and what is at stake for the world. it is the first part of the prologue before we see the main character as a grown, 19 year old who doesn't have strong memories of her life in this magical world. “Let me tell you a story, my little ones,” her father said as he tucked her into bed. “Papa, tell us of the lost monsters,” Decasha squealed. Shadow, being the youngest of her father’s children, was too small to reach over and smack her older brother until he quieted, so she scowled at him instead. Her father must have seen this, for the old man with a face worn by hours of staring at …
Last reply by Ethan Perkus, -
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This scene opening introduces the antagonist, who is on his way to see a oracle to gain insight into what he seeks. The outcome of this visit, besides the antagonist's goals, is what drives his actions through the rest of the story. A colony of grey birds, flying in unison like soldiers marching to a beat, swarmed the grey skies. Basorun Ga, prime minister of Eyeo Kingdom was many miles from home. He rode on quagga back with his chief guard, Jahi, at his side. As they neared the Black city, the air changed. The smell of the air, dirty, stale, and intoxicating, hung heavy like a thick slab. Ga raised his head high, narrowing his gaze at what was the city entran…
Last reply by Ethan Perkus,